Seclusion:Zombie Apocalypse

[Ender]

SSGT. James Perez. LAX

Sweat dripped from his brow, dirt covered his face. Oil splatters joined the blood splatters on his MARPAT uniform. His M4A1 clutched in his hands, James motioned for a soldier (Soldier=Army, Marine=Well, you know) to move forward. They had escaped the massacre that the army outpost set up at LAX had been. The soldier moved forward, taking the door. Four other men (Three Soldiers, one Marine) took breaching positions. He motioned for them to breach the door. They did. The explosion tore the door off it's hinges and the men rushed in. Perez turned on his TAC-LITE and did a sweep of the room.

Location: Radio station.

"Clear left!" the unit leader called out.

"Clear right!" the Marine called.

"Ok, men! Stack up on the stairs. Watch out for zombies!" Perez ordered, taking position next to the stair well. It was quiet. James' heart pounded as they began to slowly move up the stairs. A quiet thump somewhere, and James went on high alert. Oh shit. He tightened his grip and looked to the top of the stairs. A figure stood there.

"US Marines! Identify yourself!" James hollared. He was met with a scream, and the zombie attacked. "Open fire!!!" James cried, firing his rifle.

Gunfire erupted.

Clear left! Move in Marines! Clear that building!

James shook off the memory as the zombie fell dead, blood covered his pointman. "I'm ok sir!" the Army Specialist reported.

"Continue on!" James ordered, and they continued up the stairs. They reached a doorway. "Breach it." he said.

"Breaching, breaching!" the pointman called out, kicking the door in. They rushed in. "US Army! If anybody is in here, come out slowly with your hands behind your head!"

James sweeped the room. It was twilight, the worst time for ground manouvers. He moved forward, eyes darting.

"US Marines! Anybody in here?!" the Marine Corporal with them called out.

"Clear left!"

"Clear right!"

"Stairway secure!"

"Building secure!" the reports flooded in. James located what he was looking for. The broadcast room.

"Torres!" James called out. "You're communications, right?"

"Yes sir!" Army Private Torres reported.

"Set up this equipment." James ordered, entering the room. The on air sign flashed as James lifted the mike. "This is Staff Sergeant James Perez to anybody in LA. If you're out there, my squad is heading to the Chinese Theatre. If you want to survive, meet us there. Out."

((Let the [ST]massacre[/ST] posting begin. :CScool))

 

[jacobburns]

Jacob was frantically looking around his apartment. "Where....IS IT"
"its not in the closet its not in the dresser maybe...yes it is"
He dashed to the left side of the apartment and into his bed room. He reached under his bed and pulled out a small box. "finally" he said as he opened it. Inside was a magnum and a small ammo box he then put on his jacket and his fathers holster. And then put the gun in the holster and the ammo in his right pocket. He ran out the door and as he stormed down the stairs of his apartment building he pulled out his keys he ran out the front door and into his car. As Jacob put on his seat belt he turned on the car.
"Ok now that all that is over i can....." grrr.. a small growl came from the back seat as Jacob pulled out. "Ah crap" he said as the zombie jumped at him. Jacob's foot retracted and the car floored it into a street light. the zombie flew out the window and into a wall. It looked pretty gory and looked pretty dead (well again lol). Jacob took off his seat belt and exited the 2002 Saturn. He looked down the rode and was in awe at the site.
Crashed cars, bikes trucks, spread all over the rode. "well i wasnt going anywher anyway i gues"


He started to walk down the rode. Walking around the vehicles like some kind of depressing maze. He started to hear something. jacob darted down to a police car. A man was on the other line asking for survivors.
He listened carefully. "ok i gota get to the chinese theater"


grooooowl.....greeowl. "shit" He said as a undead officer joged at him. He shot him in the head with a precise shot.
"that was close he got 3 feet away from me...i gota be more careful"
"speaking of careful i just rang the dinner bell"


Jacob then started running twards the theater.

 

[Jesse16]

ooc:jesse mahoney can be refered to as mahoney (think of police academy as an example of the name.) or jesse witch ever you prefer

image of frank http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...=1t:429,r:4,s:0&tx=146&ty=73&biw=1271&bih=772

And there he was sitting there in the front seat of a car. with his eyes closed and with a gun in his hands. remembering when it all started......................... he didn't remember how long ago it was but he did remember what transpired.

It was night and there was riots all over the city. Mahoney and his friend frank were in full riot gear trying to keep things together just like all the other officers. He did not know what was going on. But he new it was bad if they needed every on hand officer in the vicinity from swat down to meter mades to help keep this under control.

In a single file line side by side the swat team was marching down the rode.
"What is that?" said frank as he watched what was coming down the rode. Mahoney
looked carefully and in complete shock said "you....got... to be... fu#*ing kidding me"
A mob of zombies darted down the rode at the officers. A man with a loud speaker started shouting. "This is the police stop now or we will open fire". A zombie then ran up and tackled the man. Ripping his throat out with his teeth. "Open fire" frank shouted.
The whole squad started shooting at the creatures. But them not knowing there zombies didnt aim for the head.the zombies then got close to them. Mahoney clubbed one in the face with his riot shield and close lined the another. one by one good men fell. and frank was bit in the leg.
Mahoney ran up and punted the child that was gnawing on him. He then picked up frank and started running. He left his comrades but they died anyway. Mahoney knew because the mob started chasing him. Mahoney ran into a nearby apartment building and locked the door. He then set frank down. "We cant stay her forever" frank said in agony. "You got to leave me man" Mahoney knew he was right but did not want to leave his friend. "Ill go get help" He took franks shot gun and ammo. "Frank is ther anything i can do" "ya...go"
Mahoney then ran up the stairs and to the roof of the building. he used a latter that was on the roof as a bridge to the other building. As he got across he heard a loud crash and frank scream. Mahoney Knew what happened. He continued to use his little bridge idea until morning. he then passed out on a roof due to exhaustion. The next morning he awoke to a world of fear, a world of death, a world of the dead.

And now hear he is in the front seat of a car about to kill him self. "I'm coming frank" He put the gun in his mouth and was just about to pull the trigger when a mans voice came on the radio.

"This is Staff Sergeant James Perez to anybody in LA. If you're out there, my squad is heading to the Chinese Theater. If you want to survive, meet us there. Out."

he then slowly pulled the gun out of his mouth a bit a drewl still on the barrel. He had a felling he had to go.

"Well that's worth a try aint it"

he hot wired the car and drove towards the Chinese Theater because it is a chance he has to take

 

[Ender]

((OOC: I must lol. When I first joined Seclusion [Yeah, I became the mod after a month. The original mod left. It's my RP nowadays], my charrie was about to commit suicide))

 

[Rom]

Ignoring the stifling heat under the leather motorcycle jacket and pants he was wearing over his clothes for additional protection, Duncan quickly began to take stock of his supplies. He had loaded up his backpack with plenty of bottles of water and canned food, along with the battery powered charging unit he had been using to charge and power his cellphone so he could continue to access information through the use of the phone towers and all save one of the extra magazines for the pistol holstered at his thigh. Strapped horizontally across the motorcycle was his beloved katana, positioned so the blade was easily retrivable should he run into any of the undead but secured enough to not be pulled off during the ride into town. Taking a deep breath, the brown haired teenager used a sharp kitchen knife to cut off the long braid he had been growing over the years to prevent snags or the iron grip of a zombie.

Poking his head out of a broken window along the top of the garage door, Duncan made sure there were no zombies in sight before quickly pulling the garage door up high enough for him and his motorcycle to ride out of. Jamming the helmet onto his head and velcro-ing his gloves, Duncan hit the ignition and gunned the throttle, shooting out of the garage like a bat out of hell only to have to swerve to the left as a curious zombie shambled past him into the house. Leaning into the turn, the teen pushed the throttle heading towards the freeway, driving on the sidewalks when the roads became too congested with either debris or the undead for him to maneuver through. He had made it nearly three quarters of the way to the Chinese Theatre when the road became unpassable. Cursing his fortunes, Duncan ripped the sword off of the bike and began to jog through the maze of vehicles. Diving to the ground at the sound of a gunshot further ahead, Duncan pushed up the visor of his helmet to allow him to hear better and cursed as a cacophony of moans and growls rose in response to the shot. Pulling himself up ontop of a SUV, Duncan started running along the top of the cars, jumping from vehicle to vehicle in the hopes of staying out of reach of the approaching horde for the few precious moments it would take him to get off the freeway and into the city.

Too late. Duncan had thrown himself forward off of a vehicle towards the ramp off of the freeway only to hurtle headlong into a zombie. Cursing as he felt the frightfully strong undead hands grabbing at his helmet and the teeth gnashing uselessly against his jacket, the teenager headbutted the zombie twice before rolling out of the creatures grasp, bringing his sword up to bare, the sharp metal blade shining in the sunlight. Falling back on years of training, Duncan waited until the rushing zombie was nearly upon him before stepping forward and to the side, swinging his blade forward towards the neck and using the charging enemys momentum to push the blade through, severing the head. Looking down at the head rolling towards him, crazed eyes roiling and jaw gnashing down on air, Duncan stabbed his sword down through the eye and down into the pavement, relaxing slightly as the head finally stopped moving.

Looking around warily, Duncan paused only to wipe the blade on the clothes of the now dead-dead corpse before sheathing the weapon and tying it off at his belt. Reaching for the water bottle in the pouch on the side of his backpack, Duncan drained a quarter of it and began to move again, forcing himself not to think about all that he had been forced to do to survive. He had argued at tournaments that survival always trumped moral and ethical codes, but he had discovered a few weeks ago that there was a difference between debating about something, and actually doing something. Sticking to the alley ways and side streets of the once bustling city of the stars, Duncan slowly and carefully made his way towards the Chinese theater.

 

[Dmitri]

Click!

A door to a small apartment swung open. A white-hairred man entered the livingspace. Most expected white hair to equate to age. In actuality, the man was only 28. While he didn't suffer from full albinism, his hair contained no pigments, thus becoming the color white.

Dr. Ein von Morgenroet pocketed the lockpicks; he murmured about needing to improve his skills, as it had taken him almost a minute to pick the lock. His scarf swaying behind him, Ein explored the apartment of one Dr. Barrel, one of the researchers from the miracle drug project.

Dr. Smith was dead, let's hope Dr. Barrel isn't the same, thought Ein.

Ein heard a noise from the bedroom. Dr. Barrel? No, it was the radio.

"This is Staff Sergeant James Perez to anybody in LA. If you're out there, my squad is heading to the Chinese Theater. If you want to survive, meet us there. Out."

Soldiers here finally? thought Ein. It's been three weeks, what have they been doing all this time? Probably doing their job. Most agencies were trying to contain the situation, rather than try to help those already in the infected areas. Los Angelos, Ground Zero of Bloody Sunday, was in far worse condition than any other place at the current time. It was actually a surprise to Ein that they had come this soon; he hadn't been expecting them until another week or two.

Ein heard a creak. A footstep.

"Dr. Barrel?" whispered Ein.

The bedroom door burst open. A zombie in a labcoat charged Ein. Ein, a zweihander in his hand, stabbed the antique sword through the zombie's head. The sword broke on impact. Regardless, the sword had killed the zombie.

Ein confirmed the zombie was Barrel. "Dammit! There goes another."

Ein tossed the bladeless hilt onto the ground. The zweihander had been a gift from his parents; supposedly, the sword had been apart of some famous battle or other.

With the sword damaged, Ein took out the cattle prod. He didn't dare use his handgun in such a populated area, or at least formerly. He kept the shocking device in hand as he explored the apartment. Barrel's laptop wasn't there, probably still at the lab; if what rumors said were true, a fire had claimed the lab, so most of the data there was gone. To his luck, Ein found an external traveldrive.

"Great, now I just need a computer," said Ein.

Ein remembered the broadcast by James Perez. He would be surprised if the soldiers didn't have communication equipment with them. He could upload the data in the external harddrive to the secondary facility in Germany. The soldiers may even have a working computer with them.

Ein left the apartment and headed for the Chinese Theatre.

 

[Praetor]

Crowbar in hand, Hector tiptoed around in a gas station which was completely abandoned as far as he knew. He drove here on a stolen motorcycle which was parked outside. He grabbed a couple of water bottles, a bag of chips, and some medical supplies from some shelves in the gas station. His ears were on high alert as he stuffed the items into his backpack. Hector walked out of the front door feeling lucky that he had not encountered any zombies. Despite his strength and experience as an MMA fighter, these zombies seriously creeped him out. Hector hopped on his motorcycle and started the engine. He twitched his ears as he tried to make out a noise coming from nearby. He turned and saw a car with an open door. He dismounted his motorcycle and walked over to the car and listened to a message playing on the radio. "...anybody in LA. If you're out there, my squad is heading to the Chinese Theatre. If you want to survive, meet us there. Out."
Hector pondered on what he had just heard for a minute. "Well, I guess I'll have to head downtown. Hopefully I don't run into one of those mobs of zombies." He walked back to his motorcycle and pulled out his gun from his back pack. Hector put it in his jacket pocket and then rode off on his motorcycle towards downtown.

 

[Hideous]

Although the iconic Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard was still recognizable, it had nevertheless undergone significant changes in the last three weeks. Most significantly, every exit except for the main one in the front and a single one in the back had been very heavily barricaded, making it much easier to defend against roaming zombies. The two exits that were left were kept shut by heavy chains, and the doors had been reinforced with steel on the inside.

All of that was courtesy of Fiorenza's small posse of mobsters which had escaped the infection thus far. They'd initially been trying to escape the city the day that the plague - as they affectionately called it - broke out, but had ended up being cornered near the theater by a particularly large wave of zombies. Not having much choice in the matter, they took refuge in the famous building and managed to hold the zombies at bay, although a few of them did unfortunately end up getting torn to shreds.

Realizing that it would be practically impossible to leave the city at that point, since the infection would only continue to spread and get worse, they decided to set up a temporary base of operations in the theater while they figured out how to escape the nightmare that L.A. had become. While they were at it, they also began collecting all manner of items that could prove useful. Unfortunate wanderers found the gangsters to be almost as merciless as the zombies, having been completely robbed of any weapons or valuables. The few that were stupid enough to put up a fight were no longer of this world. They had a decent stockpile building up, including all sorts of weapons, drugs, food, water, alcohol, vehicles, gas and much more.

Fiorenza sat comfortably in one of the lavish VIP rooms, relaxing after having just recently gotten back from her daily "gathering" outing with a few of the boys. Glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other, she was content with watching DVDs on the large, wall mounted plasma TV. She often raided the nearby video stores so that she had something to pass the time with, so her collection of movies already numbered in the hundreds. Unfortunately for her, she didn't listen to the radio much and neither did any of the others in her crew, so they were still unaware that they would soon be receiving guests of the human variety.

 

[Ender]

((Well now,this will be interesting.Post reserved))

James sat in the passenger seat of one of two M707 HMMWVs (Humvees) both mounted with M2 .50 caliber heavy machine guns, and both carrying five men. One driver, three passengers and a gunner. While this was against protocol, James figured protocol no longer mattered until they could reestablish contact with command. His M4 resting against his leg, James looked out the window. A dead and burnt city. The military had been trying to stage an evacuation operation, but that failed horribly.

"Hell sir, this ain't what I remember." one of the Marines from second squad stated (Second squad had been staging over watch during the first post. It's made up of entirely Marines). His name was Bradley, and he was a funny looking guy from Logistics and Supply.

Every Marine a Rifleman, James thought.

They drove past iconic sights from the past. Jeez, it's only been three weeks, and it all seems so alien... James thought idly. The trucks came within a block of the target, and they stopped. Quickly, three men from both vehicles dismounted and formed up outside their vehicles, leaving a man to drive and a man on the .50. The Chinese Theater was just up ahead.

"Hey Sarge!" a Marine, Derek, called out. "Check this out!" he said pointing to a surplus store. "I remember popping in this place when I was a kid!" the store had been looted clean.

"An odd place to put a surplus store, donchaya think?" a soldier said, drawling a texan accent.

"Yeah, right in the middle of Hollywood?" another Marine said. "Jesus!" he cried, when realized he had stepped into a man's organs. For a moment, they had all forgotten that they were in a combat zone.

"Lock it up Marines, Soldiers." Jim said, taking point. So far, no contacts. Just another few hundred yards to the Theater. The Humvees rumbled behind them, M2s locked and ready to fire.

Blood splatters marked the stars of actors old. Now they had their heads on straight, they paid no attention to the stars. They moved forward as a single unit. Eyes darting from window to window, checking cars and streets for zombies. Finally, they reached the theater. And James realized something was up, the place was locked down like a fortress.

"Torres! Michaels! Get the Humvees into firing positions! he ordered into his headset. "KGunners, keep eyes on those windows. Something ain't right here!" he took cover behind a white SUV turned on it's side, as the military men took positions around the entrance.

"Sir!" his second in command called out, an Army Ranger Sergeant named Nichols. "Sir, we're in a prime position for an ambush!"

Post Part 2

((RESERVED))

DELTA 4 pulled the gas mask down over his face, and peered out the window of the UH -60 Blackhawk as it came in over LA. He had priority ALPHA, Airstrikes, artillery and even tanks when they rolled in. He looked at his cards (the cards that indicated the men they needed to capture).

The Ace of Diamonds- Dr. Ein von Morgenrot

The Ace of Hearts--Dr. Eric Barrel

The Ace of Clubs--Dr. John Smith

The Ace of Spades--Dr. Robert Manheim

He looked all of them over. His men knew what they had to do, and they would do it with extreme prejudice. He pulled back on the bolt of his HK416, as the helicopter came over the LZ. The research site. The ropes went down, and eight commandos dropped down.

 

[Hideous]

Just as she was beginning to build uo some interest for the movie that she was watching, Fiorenza was slightly startled as somebody rushed into the room. Knowing that she was living in the middle of a ruined city and surrounded by hordes of undead abominations tended to make her just a tiny bit jumpy. Luckily, it was just Paolo and not any sort of zombie.

"The bastards sent the ****ing army after us! Even with the damn plague taking over the city they still have nothing better to do. Move your ass, Enza, the others are already going to the roof." Paolo sounded like he was half angry and half excited to get to take on a branch of law enforcement.

In fact, all five of the mobsters that had survived along with Fiorenza were the rather old school type. They hated nothing more than the cops and other figures of government authority such as the military, and they'd sooner light themselves on fire rather than accept to be taken alive. Although Fiorenza also hated law enforcement as much as the next criminal, she tended to prioritize her own survival over her sense of pride. Had she been the first one to make contact with the soldiers, she probably would have at least attempted to strike some sort of deal with them.

The sudden sound of gunfire coming from several automatic rifles outside pretty much confirmed that that ship had sailed, however. As soon as the four gangsters perched all around the theaters roof began firing, the soldiers scrambled for cover and began returning the favor. The area sounded like a war zone , probably having the wonderful side effect of alerting every god forsaken zombie in Los Angeles. Fiorenza had grabbed her shotgun before making her way towards the front of the building with Paolo, planning to bait the attackers into a trap by unlocking the door and leaving it wide open for them. She did just that and then immediately took up a position behind cover with a good shot at the entrance while Paolo did the same. The first couple of intruders would have quite a warm welcome.

 

[Ender]

James began to move towards the door,but was stopped by what can only be described as being slammed in the chest by a two by four.With the Hulk swinging it.Rifle fire erupted all over the place.

“CONTACTS!” Sergeant Michaelson screamed,grabbing James by the collar and dragging him behind a Humvee. Luckily,the chest plates stopped the bullet,but Perez would have a nasty bruise.“I count thre-No, five contacts!”

“Breach it!” James gasped, attempting to stand. Several soldiers began leap frogging cover towards the door,which they found to be locked.By this time,James had recovered.

“Michaelson,take two men and breach the rear entrance!ASAP,mind you.” he motioned to the two remaining men.“Flash and clear.” he commanded.A blinding flash,and deafening bang brought back memories as they rushed inside.

 

[Rom]

Jerking his head up as the dead silence of the city was shattered by gunfire, Duncan cursed under his breath and ran the last two blocks to the Chinese theater, swiping his sword at the legs of a zombie emerging from an alleyway, drawn by the sound of automatic fire. Jumping over the still moving corpse of a man who had literally been torn apart, the teenager let out a sigh of relief as he saw the humvees. Tying the white towel he had stored in his backpack around the sheath of his sword, Duncan ran forward waving it in the hopes that the soldiers would know he was not a zombie or a looter and wouldn't shoot him. The men they were firing at though seemed to have other ideas, and they started to shoot at him the minute he stepped into their line of sight.

Throwing himself behind the car as bullets pinged off the concrete beneath his feet, Duncan ducked low and moved closer to the military vehicles, sheathing his sword as he pulled out the pistol he had never even tried to fire. Turning around to grab a second clip to keep in his jacket pocket, Duncan paled and reached out to bang on the roof of one of the humvees, trying to get the attention of the man on the .50cal mounted gun. Flipping off the safety and chambering a round as he had seen the heroes do in movies, he yelled as loudly as he could over the assault weapons, "Zombies! Zombies! Coming in from N. Highland!"

Pulling out his pistol and aiming at the approaching horde, not knowing that his pistol didn't have nearly enough range, Duncan aimed at what looked like might be the head of a zombie at the front and fired, only to curse as the bullet went wide after the recoil threw his aim wide. Swinging around at the feeling of fingers pulling at his arm, Duncan stared into the undead eyes for a moment before bringing the gun up under the zombies chin and pulled the trigger three times, collapsing back against the humvee as he tried to use the towel to wipe the blood and bits of brain off of the visor of his helmet.

Looking up at the man on the .50 cal and noticing that he still had not turned the guns to face the approaching zombies, Duncan stared as he noticed that the man was dead, slumped over the turret port. Biting back a sob, Duncan climbed up onto the gun and slid the shot soldier down into the back of the humvee before struggling to turn the mounted gun towards the approaching mass of undead and opened fire, trying to resist the urge to stop his firing and slap his hands over his ears. Watching bullets eat up the concrete and storefronts, Duncan let out a whooping cheer as the approaching bodies started to drop at the impact of the shots, staring in shock sometimes as bodies practically burst or evaporated under the concentrated fire.

Not knowing if there was a limit to his ammo or the heat the turret could take building up, Duncan only prayed that no one would try to shoot him as he struggled to aim the monstrous gun at the approaching undead army.

 

[jacobburns]

Jacob was tired. He just ran for about 5 minutes straight. He walked over 2 a car and opened the door. Jacob pulled out his gun and searched it a bit. He than sat in the front seat resting....... Then all of a sudden he starts hearing gunfire from about a block away.
"Oh dont tell me that's from the Chinese theater" he said to himself in frustration.
Jacob got out of his car and continued to jog towards the theater. About a street away from it he heard the very sound that will make a dragons blood curdle. A hoard of zombies. He looked behind him and saw them run around the corner of the street.
they were about 5 yards away from Jacob. he then started to run for the theater. but before he can get There he saw the turret aimed at the hoard behind him and bullets barley missing him. "Shiiiiit" Jacobs creamed as he ran to the right and jumped in a trash bin. "I gues im here until the shooting stops" he said in anguish. "i barely got out alive"

 

[Dmitri]

Ein had almost arrived the Chinese Theatre when he heard shooting. Stealthily getting a better view, his first theory of it being survivors vs. zombies was torn away as he saw it being humans vs. humans.

"Not good," grumbled Ein.

Ein spotted another person. They seemed alive too.

"What's going on?" asked Ein.

 

[Jesse16]

Jesse was driving down the rode towards the theater. He was driving as fast as the mustang can take him without risk of loosing controll. He looks at what street he's on. "Im nowhere near the theater" he said in distress. He quickly stops the car at the site of a women running in the rode and waving her arms like a normal person would in order to signal him to stop. "Do you need a ride mam i know were we can find safety"
Jesse said as he opened the car door and stepped outside. all of a sudden he feels a sharp shock. He was shocked by a tazer from behind. Jesse falls to his knees and collapses to the ground... unconscious.

"uuuh i feel like shit" Jesse said as he woke up. he tried to move but realized that he was hand cuffed to a pipe. "What the hell" he said as he tried to pull himself free.
He stops. And listens to people talking in the other room

"so next we kill him and then we dump his body outside for the dead to get him"
said a man with a country ascent. That was all he needed to here. Jesse started to pull at the pipe with all of his mite. He eventually pulled the pipe off its hinges.
"What was that" he heard a women say. Jesse grabbed the pipe and hid in a corner behind a crate. A girl then entered the room with Jesse's pistol in her hand.
Jesse ran up behind her and slammed the pipe down on her head burying it into the back of her skull. He then picked up his hand gun.

Jesse slowly walked down the hall following voices. he stopped at the end and peer at the corner. he spotted three men one holding his shotgun. one holding his mp5 and the last holding a revolver. "Ok 1..2..3.." Jesse on three quickly rolled to the side and shot down the two carrying his guns. He shot one in the head and the other with a double tap two the chest. the last hid behind a table. Jesse and the man were at it for about a minute until Jesse shot his last 2 bullets into his gut. Jesse then walked up and fire the last shot into his right eye. "sorry about all this but no one gave me much room for choice"

Jesse grabbed all his guns. he found a bag with all his ammo and put the clips in his vest.
he then grabbed the revolver in the mans hand. "cool... a scholfeald". he then picked up a box of ammo for the revolver with 24 bullets and 4 S&W REVOLVER RIMZ SPEEDLOADER with it. As Jesse walks outside he is blinded by the sunlight for a second. and then starts to hear gunfire. Whats that he thot to himself.

The Chinese Theater was in the distance. "What's going on?" a man ask's him.
Jesse flinches. he quickly points his revolver at the man. but quickly realizes he is good. "sorry about that" he said as he put the revolver away.
"i dont know. but sounds like a wars going on over there"

 

[Jesse16]

ooc: This is Jesse Mahoney's scholfeald revolver image: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl...1&ndsp=20&ved=1t:429,r:2,s:0&biw=1271&bih=771 silver plated same as in image but with a pearl handle.

As a "top-break" revolver, the 1875 Schofield could be loaded much faster than other sidearms of the day. With the barrel latch released, the barrel could be pulled down and the spent cartridge would be ejected. Schofield's design relocated the barrel latch from the barrel to the frame, and as a result, a shooter could operate the latch with his thumb and open the gun for loading and unloading with just one hand. With practice, a shooter could refill all the chambers at once without looking, and do it in about 26 seconds (in today's terms less then 3 or 4 with a Revolver Speedloader like the S&W REVOLVER RIMZ SPEEDLOADER). This was a distinct plus for a mounted soldier, and provided the Schofield with a clear advantage over the 1873 Colt "Peacemaker."

for more info on the scholfeald revolver go to the link hear http://www.sam-hane.com/sass/schofield/

 

[Hideous]

The plan didn't go quite as expected. Instead of ambushing the enemy as they tried to rush inside, Fiorenza and Paolo found themselves trying to get as far away as possible from a grenade that had been thrown inside. She managed to avoid the full effect of the blast, but her vision was cut down by at least half and her ears were ringing loudly, making her practically deaf for a short time. The only thing that she could still barely hear were the very faint sounds of gunfire coming from outside and from above. She stumbled down a couple of hallways without thinking about where she was going in an attempt to buy herself some time to recover.

Fiorenza managed to compose herself somewhat a few seconds later, but it was already too late. The trio of soldiers that had broken in through the rear entrance were already upon her and Paolo as another firefight broke out in the Theater's famous auditorium. Bits and pieces of the bright red chairs that filled the room began flying all over the place as they were used for cover, and the giant projector screen suffered quite a few bullet holes as well. Firing in the general direction of the soldiers, Fiorenza managed to at least hit one of them before ducking back down behind her cover, although she had no idea how much damage the slug from her shotgun had actually managed to cause.

In the meantime, Paolo had been hit in the stomach, although he was somehow still managing to stand up and fire back at his attackers. Judging by the size of the dark crimson stain on his jacket, though, Fiorenza knew that it was only a matter of time until he lost too much blood. There was pretty much no way for her to make it out of her current situation alive unless the boys on the roof had actually managed to mow down the military forces, but that seemed unlikely. She'd heard a lot of gunfire earlier, including what sounded like one or two big ass Gatling guns, so it was difficult to picture 4 moderately armed men coming out on top of that situation.

She hoped that she was wrong, but realistically, chances were that she was pretty boned.

 

[Ender]

This was enough! James thought, as he wrapped a bandage around Derek's arm.

"Hell Staff Sergeant!" he said as James tied it off. "That SOB just clipped me." he laughed. Marines, graveyard humor. His arm was messed up pretty bad. James smiled and shook his head. Derek's face was pale. "Come on Sarge. Go get 'em."

With that James stood up and called out "US Marines! We will not fire upon you if you lay down your weapons!" the other men looked at him quizzically. "Do you really think it's smart to be fighting each other in the middle of the apocalypse? Come on guys, give it up!" he said. With that, he stepped forward and let his rifle hang by it's sling. "White flag here guys. One chance."

 

[Hideous]

The soldier's request for a ceasefire fell on deaf ears. Adrenaline was still running high, especially after Paolo had bit hit, so revenge was the main thing on Fiorenza's mind at that moment. As her shotgun ran out of ammo, she set it down on the ground and drew her pistol, shooting blindly over the seats while cautiously making her way towards Paolo. She doubted that she'd be able to do much as far as helping him survive his wound, but she'd known him for a long time and a certain sense of loyalty compelled her to at least make an effort. "Stay down," she tried to order, although the obvious concern in her voice made it sound more like she was pleading.

Of course, being the stubborn son of a bitch that he was, Fiorenza's accomplice wasn't about to cower away from a fight. As he went up to fire another burst at the soldiers, one of them caught him a second time, this time in the side of the neck. Fiorenza arrived just in time to catch him as he fell over, causing her to stumble to the ground as well. Recoving as quickly as she could, she fired a few more warning shots over the nearby row of seats before turning Paolo over on his back and attempting to apply pressure over his latest wound. The futility of her attempt was painfully obvious. Fiorenza could hear the sound of blood gurgling as Paolo took his last breaths, but he still somehow found the strength to hand her his weapon before drifting away into a permanent sleep.

It was a touching moment that not even a cold blooded criminal could be entirely immune to. Fiorenza took a few moments to compose herself, knowing that her recently deceased friend would have never accepted what she was about to do next. "OK, stop it, I give up!" she shouted across the gigantic room. Holding both guns up by the trigger guards with her two indexes, she slowly got up with her hands raised in the air. Being apprehended by the authorities was one of the last things that she wanted, but she wanted t avoid death even more, so it seemed liked a necessary sacrifice.

 

[Ender]

"Guns down b***!" Torres screamed, he was covered his Nichols' blood. The young Army Private advanced with his rifle drawn on the gangster. James knew he was about to kill her, and he acted quickly. As Torres went to pull the trigger, James slid underneath him, swiping out his legs. "Ah!" he screamed hitting the ground. James motioned for the three remaining Marines to take care of the Army Private.

James turned on the remaining gangster, a striking beauty, she stood with her weapon in the air. "Set 'em down, ma'am." he ordered, not raising his rifle, but keeping it in a ease of access position. "I'm Staff Sergeant James Perez, and hopefully we have refugees on the way." he informed her. "You look like an intelligent woman, considering you stood down when nobody else did."

He approached her slowly, then un-gloved his hand and held it out. "I think we can work together."